


so familiar a gleam

by glaeson



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Disney World & Disneyland, F/F, and is whipped for lexa, clarke is a tragic gay mess, this is just rly gross and gay??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 01:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6353068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glaeson/pseuds/glaeson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven should be fucking <i>here</i> right now, offering you some kind of moral support, not getting you some ice cream, because <i>holy shit</i>, you think, <i>this girl is hot</i>, and you are <i>so</i> not equipped to deal with this right now.</p><p>or</p><p>In which Clarke is Princess Aurora at Disneyland, Raven is her partner-in-crime, and Lexa proves that this really is the Happiest Place On Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so familiar a gleam

**Author's Note:**

> so. i am hurting and saw a video on facebook of a guy just charming the hell out of a princess aurora at disneyland (which i can't find anymore, if any of you do see it please hmu so i can link it here), and i just had to? i had to. i miss these gay catastrophes so much, so yeah. tada!!
> 
> ps i've never been to/worked at disneyland so if this is inaccurate pls forgive!! i just want these hoes to live and be happy

You’re really, _really_ regretting not taking a sick day today. 

 

It’s 95 degrees out in the middle of September, what the fuck. You wanted to call your boss to let you off the hook—maybe let Octavia take your shift today—because you woke up with what was possibly the worst hangover of your life. You ultimately decided against it, though. Two aspirins and coffee and all. 

 

But your ball gown and heels and wig isn’t really making your decision worth it.

 

“ _Sleeping Beauty!_ ” you hear a little girl squeal. 

 

Okay. Maybe it’s a _little_ worth it. 

 

She runs to you, laughing. She’s dressed like Jasmine, which is adorable in its own right, because the costume exposes her stomach and you poke her right above her navel. “Hello, little princess,” you coo. “What’s your name?”

 

“Beth,” she says. 

 

“Hello, Beth. What can I do for you today?” 

 

“Um. I’d really like a picture, if that’s okay?” Her eyes are wide and her teeth are bright and _come on—_ as if you could say no to that. 

 

“Of course! Anything for you, princess.” You wink. You spot her mother with a camera at the ready; there are dark circles under her eyes and a few strands of hair escaping her ponytail. She looks exhausted, if you’re being honest. They’ve probably been here since early morning, and you’re sure it’s well past noon now. 

 

You take four quick pictures with her, the last one a silly one where she’s sticking her tongue out and you’re pinching her cheeks. She whispers a quiet thank you afterwards, and you give her one of the lollipops that you always keep stashed in your pocket. (You’re incredibly grateful that your costume came with one. It’s saved your life more times that you can count.)

 

“Look,” you say to her. “I think someone’s waiting for you.”

 

You point towards Bellamy’s direction, in all his Aladdin glory. He’s already waving hi, smile wide. Beth squeals again, albeit a bit more sheepishly this time. She runs before she even says goodbye, and her mom just rolls her eyes. 

 

“Damn, Griffin,” you hear a voice behind you say. “How’re you keeping up with those kids in this heat? ‘S like Satan’s asshole around here.”

 

You chuckle. “Language, Rave.”

 

Raven walks over to you, hands and face stained with grease. She probably reworked the Monorail _again_ —there’s a spot near Tomorrowland where the train always get stuck, but you kind of fell asleep when Raven was halfway through explaining why. 

 

“Okay, okay,” Raven says, holding her hands up in surrender. “Kid-friendly zone, I know, I know.” She throws you a smirk. “How long are you out here for?”

 

“Until the fireworks, I think. What day is it today?”

 

“Saturday.”

 

You sigh. “Yeah. Fireworks.”

 

Raven winces. “Yeesh. I’ll pray for you,” she says. “Better yet: I’ll get you ice cream from Main Street.”

 

The moan that escapes your lips is probably a bit too loud and a tad inappropriate. You see Raven snort. “Oh my God,” you say. “Please.”

 

“Your wish is my command, Your Highness,” she says, bowing. “I’ll just be a minute.”

 

“I love you,” you tell her, “like, a lot. It’s a pretty gross amount of love.”

 

“Ditto, princess,” she sing-songs, and then she’s off.

 

You watch her until she disappears into the crowd. Raven’s been your roommate for the past three years, and you guys are a system, really; the two of you are attached at the hip. So when she’d heard that you got the job as Aurora at Disneyland, she quit her job at a car repair shop and applied here. “Figure they could use some of this,” she’d said, knocking on her head. “What else to do with a fresh Engineering degree from Stanford?”

 

She’s never left you, and probably never will, and you wonder what made you deserve her.

 

You busy yourself by counting the flowers on the bushes around you. It’s almost autumn, so there’s not much. You count twenty-two when you’re interrupted by a voice.

 

“Excuse me, m’lady,” a woman says. 

 

You turn to face the source of the voice. “Yes?” you answer, and— _oh my god._

 

Raven should be fucking _here_ right now, offering you some kind of moral support, not getting you some ice cream, because _holy shit,_ you think, _this girl is hot,_ and you are _so_ not equipped to deal with this right now.

 

Like, she’s probably hotter than today’s weather. Which, by the way, isn’t helping, because you’re sweaty and God knows what you smell like right now. Fuck.

 

The girl has bright, green-gold eyes, cheekbones and a jawline that you’re afraid to touch because you’re, like, a hundred percent sure your hands will come away bleeding if you do. Her tan is out of this fucking _world_ , you think, and she’s in a loose muscle tee and ripped shorts that show off her body. Her _body_. God. Her shoulders are broad and her arms and legs are just speaking for themselves and you’re pretty sure you can see a faint outline of abs through the thin cotton of her top—and you are making a thousand signs of the cross just looking at her because your mind is absolutely full of _sin_ right now.

 

You are _way_ too sober for this.

 

“It’s my nephew Aden’s birthday,” she says, and points to a little boy behind her— _dressed like Prince Phillip, of course, God, okay_ —and he’s kind of flustered seeing you. “He has a special request?”

 

“ _Auntie Lexa,_ ” the boy—Aden—whines. 

 

_Lexa,_ you think. Her name’s Lexa. You remember it in case you run into each other again. Which you hope will happen in the near future. 

 

“All right, all right, love,” Lexa says to Aden, smiling. “He says he’s too small to dance with you, Your Highness,” she continues, “so he asks if I can dance with you instead.”

 

Your mouth dries, and you blink. _Lord, please help my poor, tiny soul._

 

“Auntie Lexa’s a _professional_ dancer,” Aden pipes up. “She’s really good!”

 

“Are you, now?” You raise your eyebrows.

 

Her cheeks flush, but she nods. “New York Ballet.”

 

“Wow. That’s amazing,” you reply. That pretty much explains why she’s ripped. “I’m guessing Aden wants to follow in his aunt’s footsteps?”

 

Lexa chuckles. You’re pretty sure your heart skips, you tragic mess. “Yeah, he does.”

 

“That’s cute.” You crouch down to Aden’s level. “You wanna dance too, my prince?”

 

“Yes! Well, not yet. Not with you. I wanna do it _properly_ , when I’m all grown up. Like a real prince!” His eyes are as bright as his aunt’s, and you melt a little at his admission.

 

“I can see where he gets his charm,” you say, standing back up to your full height. Lexa’s cheeks darken again. “What’s a New York ballerina doing all the way here?”

 

“We’re off-season, so I decided to visit family,” Lexa replies. She steps forward, putting her legs together, extending her hand towards you and bowing. “Shall we?”

 

“We shall,” you answer, and then her hand is on your waist and the other is holding yours and you are _barely_ keeping your shit together.

 

“Aden,” Lexa calls over her shoulder, “I hope you’re paying attention.”

 

You see Aden nod furiously. “Yes, Auntie Lexa.” 

 

His excitement sends both of you laughing, and Lexa begins leading you, taking the first steps.

 

As you dance, you were pretty sure you were just going to use the park’s background music as _your_ music, but then Lexa starts: 

 

“ _I know you,_ ” she croons, _“I’ve walked with you once upon a dream.”_

 

She sings, too. Alright. _Al-fucking-right._

 

You blame your heightened thirst on the weather, anyway.

 

“ _I know you,_ ” Lexa continues, waltzing, drawing you closer. “ _The gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam._ ”

 

Raven _finally_ shows up, and out of the corner of your eye you see that she’s holding a half-melted cone of ice cream in one hand, and she’s smirking and giving you the okay sign with the other. You wink at her in reply.

 

You continue dancing with Lexa, and in the middle of it you see you’ve attracted quite a crowd, some of them holding their smartphones up. Your blood rises to your cheeks, but this doesn’t seem to faze your partner—she’s probably used to audiences much larger than this one, after all.

 

When Lexa gets to the final chorus, she twirls you around; and you, in all your grace, almost trip on yourself. Lexa manages to notice, somehow, so she catches you by the waist, and by the time she’s singing “ _You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream_ ,” she’s dipping you and you can feel her muscles flexing at your back and just—oh, God.

 

There’s this moment where the two of you just _stare_ at each other, and you’re drowning in those eyes of hers and you don’t let go of your hands that intertwined in the middle of your dance, and she doesn’t let go of _you._ You swallow the lump forming in your throat and try to steady your too-fast heart. She’s breathing hard, and you can see sweat beading at her hairline, and you swear you could almost— 

 

The applause that erupts from the crowd you’ve attracted wakes you up, and before you know it Lexa’s helping you stand upright and the both of you are smiling and bowing. 

 

The crowd disperses, and you feel a pair of arms around your hips. You look down to see Aden beaming up at you. “Thanks, Princess Aurora. You were amazing.”

 

“Anything for my handsome prince,” you answer, smiling right back. 

 

Lexa hands Aden her phone and says, “Why don’t you take a couple selfies with the princess before we leave, love?”

 

“Okay!” Aden says, and you crouch down to his level to take a few pictures.

 

For a seven year-old, Aden is surprisingly adept with an iPhone, and the boy seems to _adore_ you, even taking one where he kisses your cheek.

 

Lexa chuckles after he’s taken twelve photos. “Hey, love, I think that’s enough. Sleeping Beauty has probably still has a busy day ahead of her.”

 

Aden pouts, but he sighs a quiet “ _alright_ ” before stepping away from you. You hand him a lollipop, which he unwraps immediately and puts into his mouth.

 

You stand back up, Lexa approaching you again. “I see someone’s get quite the sweet tooth,” you tell her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a kid unwrap a lollipop that fast.”

 

“Oh, god,” she groans. “You have no idea.”

 

“He seems special,” you say. “He looks like a good kid.”

 

“He’s amazing,” Lexa breathes, and the _love_ that you hear pouring out from her makes your chest just a little tighter.

 

“Anyway,” she says. “Thank you for dancing with me.” She bows down and takes your hand in hers, kissing your knuckles. “What’s your name, by the way?” she asks, looking up, “and please don’t say Aurora.”

 

You laugh. “Clarke.”

 

“ _Clarke_ ,” Lexa says, savouring it in her mouth. You try not to shiver.

 

“And ‘twas my pleasure, Lexa,” you say, trying to calm the fluttering in your stomach. You’re embarrassingly whipped at this point, so you curtsy in an attempt to hide the blush that’s still no doubt colouring your cheeks.

 

Lexa bids you farewell with one last smile, and you watch them walk away, hand in hand.

 

Raven steps beside you after a few moments. “Ice cream melted, so I had to throw it away,” she tells you. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s fine. I’ll just get another one when I’m on break,” you reply. 

 

Raven’s attention is caught by something in your hand. “Yo,” she says. “What’s that you’re holding?”

 

“Wha—?” you ask, but then you look and see that there’s a piece of paper in your hand. You unclench your fist, and you unfold it.

 

_Coffee?_ , it says, scribbled in eyeliner pencil, followed by a mobile number.

 

Raven whoops. “Hell yes!” She slaps your back. “That’s my girl! Fucking _get it_ , Clarke. Score.”

 

You laugh at Raven’s enthusiasm and—yeah.

 

You’re really, _really_ glad you didn’t take a sick day today.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> cry over these gays w me @ glaeson.tumblr.com


End file.
